Sacrilege

The sanctuary was quiet and still as my husband and I entered the church, tensely gripping each others' hands.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, squeezing my fingers and tossing a quick grin my way.

My clit was already tingling in anticipation and my panties were damp. This had been a fantasy of mine for a long time and finally it would be fulfilled.

"I'm sure."

From the choir room behind the sanctuary, I could hear the sweet strains of "Heavenly Sunlight" from the piano and the delicate voice of the soprano following along. Apt, I thought, since the afternoon sun streamed through each of the stained glass windows lining the sides of the sanctuary and cast rich, golden beams along the brown carpet. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the only other people in the brick building were those preparing for the evening worship service.

We walked down the aisle with firm, steady steps, and when we reached the wide altar that curved around the front of the church, we turned to face each other.

"Take off your clothes," he whispered.

I kept my eyes steady on his hazel ones and began to slowly disrobe. Heat curled in the pit of my stomach as his eyes turned dark and heavy with desire when I revealed my body to him, inch by perfect inch. When I was completely nude and trembling with anticipation, he finally touched his lips to mine and a gentle kiss turned more passionate as we nibbled and licked, touched and caressed. A slight breeze from the ceiling fans sighed over my skin, and the combination of desire, my husband's hands and the air turned my nipples hard and achy.

"Lie down," my husband commanded, and I did, stretching my body over the altar, a very willing sacrifice. The cold, smooth wood felt icy against my feverish skin as I watched my husband remove his clothes. His muscles rippled as he removed his shirt and the sun danced over his skin and accentuated the masculine curves of his body. His cock, already long, hard and glistening with fluid, leapt from the snug boxers as he removed them.

I desperately wanted it in my mouth and I told him so boldly, daring him with my eyes to refuse.

"All right."

I sat up as he approached me, his cock level with my face as he stood.

I attacked his cock, eagerly licking up the fluid and savoring the fresh, salty taste of it on my tongue. I licked and swirled and sucked, all the while running my hands over his tight ass and caressing his heavy balls. His hands grasped my hair and pressed my face closer to him as, somehow, one of my fingers found its way into his ass. I groaned and sucked harder, deeper. His excitement and desire fueled my own. He tasted wonderful, pure male, and I inhaled the salty, sweaty scent of him as I devoured his cock.

The music changed to "Come, Let us Worship."

I was definitely worshipping something, but I wasn't sure the pastor would approve.

Before I'd satiated my desire for his cock in my mouth, my husband drew my head back with a gentle tug on my long blonde hair. "My turn."

I smiled and laid back on the smooth surface of the altar, spreading my legs on either side as I stared at the golden glitter on the textured ceiling. My body felt achy, tingly, and on the verge of orgasm.

It wasn't to remain merely on the verge for very long. My husband stretched his body over the altar as well, positioning his face between my legs and began pleasuring me with long, delicious licks. His tongue swirled in and out of me, around my clit, and briefly played with my ass.

It was heaven, and when four fingers thrust into my pussy and one slipped inside my ass while he sucked on my clit, I came violently, screaming in high, ragged breaths as my body trembled and shook and quivered.

But my husband didn't stop. He simply caressed my trembling stomach for a moment and bent his head back to his task.

I didn't notice when the music stopped or when the swinging doors at the side of the sanctuary opened. However, I did notice a flutter of movement beside the sanctuary piano and tilted my head back briefly just before another orgasm rippled through me.

The church organist stood in the doorway. She was a pretty woman with a nice figure, in her mid twenties and with long, curling dark hair. She was full through the breasts and hips, but covered any feminine assets she might have with long bulky dresses in dull colors. She was currently dating the youth pastor, and quite chastely, I assumed. Through the haze of desire that had devoured me, I saw that her rose-colored lips were parted in shock.

But was that a hint of forbidden desire and excitement I saw in her brown eyes?

"Oh… oh!" I moaned as the peak of the orgasm hit me just as the organist's eyes met mine.

My husband had noticed the organist as well, and we both watched her as he continued enthusiastically consuming my pussy. She seemed rooted to the spot, unable to flee as she probably thought she should.

I couldn't resist the mischievous urge and beckoned to her with a crook of my finger, then let my hands wander to my own breasts, pinching and squeezing as a third orgasm ripped through me.

She shook her head, but her feet disobeyed her and carried her closer to the altar where my husband was wickedly tongue-fucking me. In a few very long moments, she was close enough for me to reach for her hand.

"This is wrong," she whispered even as she allowed me to take her long, slim fingers in mine.

I gently pushed my husband's head away and sat up slowly, shaking my head as my eyes never left hers.

"No," I disagreed simply. "Would it feel so good if it were wrong?" I spoke in slow, gentle whispers.

"Satan…"

"If Satan did exist, he probably had some very interesting times with Adam and Eve," I suggested. The image of a threesome in a garden of paradise, Eve the ideal woman, Adam, the ideal man, and a very wickedly handsome and tempting Satan sent new forbidden thrills through me. My husband smiled, knowing my thoughts, and moved behind me as I stood, reveling in the rush of cum and saliva that trickled down my thighs. I could feel his cock pressing into the crack of my ass as his hands roamed over my full breasts and his teeth gently, then not-so-gently, nipped my neck. "Come here."

As if in a trance, she moved closer until our breasts were just a whisper away from touching, mine naked, tight and achy, and hers still concealed by layers of cotton. Her eyes were wide and confused when I leaned forward and kissed her. Gently, at first, then more aggressively as she opened her lips and tentatively met my tongue with hers. She tasted sweet and deliciously sinful. As we kissed, I gently unbuttoned the back of her dowdy dress and slipped it from her body.

She didn't resist; on the contrary, she pressed closer to me and began battling my mouth for dominance.

I removed her virginal white slip, her simple cotton 18-hour bra and old-lady underwear, pressing soft kisses against her skin and trailing my fingers along her legs as I discarded her underclothing. She was gorgeous, her skin pale and smooth as porcelain and unmarred, the only contrast her dark, rosy nipples and a patch of dark curly hair at the apex of her thighs. And all the while I removed her clothes and admired her body, my husband pressed his ready cock against my ass and finger-fucked me from behind.

"Do you want to lick her?" he asked in a tight, low voice. "Do you want to bury your tongue in that pussy?"

"Desperately," I whispered back. "Touch me," I directed her, and she did, not nearly as hesitant now. Her hands roamed my breasts as mine roamed hers, weighing them and gently pinching and squeezing. We lightly caressed each other's rib cage and spine, the curve of each other's hips and ass, and then I thrust one finger into her pussy.

She gasped, and I flicked her extended clit with my thumb.

As my husband watched, I guided her to the altar and lay her down where I had enjoyed multiple orgasms only moments before. I loomed over her, gently caressing her here, nibbling there, and dipping my tongue into her navel while her muscles quivered.

"Don't be afraid," I whispered. "Just relax and enjoy." My desire for her turned my voice rough and hoarse, and every word was spoken with great effort.

The scent of her drifted heavenward as I approached her pussy with my tongue. She was a virgin, I knew it. The church was ridiculously backward and I hardly thought she and the youth pastor had been fucking in the back of his SUV. They probably hadn't done more than kiss. I doubted he'd ever seen her beautiful pale breasts or the smoothness of her abdomen, or done to her what I was about to.

Her pussy was small and tight, and I imagined my husband's gorgeously hard cock filling it, stretching it, and pumping cum into it.

No, we'd leave that for the youth pastor. At least the first time. But in the meantime…

I gently licked her beautiful pink clit and she gasped, arching her back. I flicked my tongue over it and down lower, into her pussy, imitating my husband's masterful techniques that never failed to give me a heart-stopping orgasm. I slid one finger into her tight, pulsing pussy.

I'd knelt on top of the altar, and now my husband mounted the altar behind me and slid his cock into my wet, sloppy pussy. His hands grasped my ass as he began to fuck me, hard. The sound of his hips slapping against my ass joined the softer sound of my fingers and tongue fucking the organist.

I nearly screamed with pleasure when my husband thrust two fingers into my ass. I flicked my tongue over the organist's clit faster and buried my face deeper into her sweet pussy. She tasted better than chocolate soufflé, a true gourmet feast, and I imagined the taste of her mixed with my own and my husband's and began lapping it up even more. She began moving against my face, and my husband bent over to place a hand on the back of my head to push it down between her thighs.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" the organist was whimpering, in tears as she fucked my face. I reached one hand up to grasp one of her delicious breasts and tease one taut nipple and used the other hand to finger-fuck her pussy. I placed one finger against her tight asshole and gently pressed as I licked ferociously. "Oh… oooohhhh God!" Her scream reverberated off the rafters.

We came simultaneously, the organist calling out as tears streamed down her beautiful face. I moaned as I lapped her juices and felt my husband fucking my pussy with his cock and my ass with his fingers while my body shook and trembled. His body jerked as he filled me with his cum and gripped my ass cheeks in both hands throughout a long, luscious orgasm.

During the evening service, the scent of sex permeated the sanctuary, but the parishioners pretended not to notice. The organist, however, missed several notes.